Verboten
by Virande
Summary: Thirty bites of a forbidden fruit. RaiKim.
1. Plush Rival

**Title:** Plush Rival  
**Author: **Virande  
**Pairing:** Raimundo Pedrosa x Kimiko Tohomiko  
**Fandom:** Xiaolin Showdown  
**Rating:** E  
**Theme: **#02 - Sweet  
**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing and make no profit out of these.  
**Warning:** Some spoilers for "The Dream Stalker".

* * *

It was all an ill-intentioned ambush. They'd been at it for what felt like hours and he _still_ didn't want to cooperate.

"Raimundo: Hannibal Bean has been twisting people's heads around for centuries. _Centuries_. Better men than you have gotten bent out of shape. If you don't want us to go into your head and sweep every last _corner_ for traces of him, stop playing hard to get and open up already! It's not like you're keeping some deep, dark secret-"

"No. No to all of the above."

"How can you be sure he hasn't got you set to pull a chainsaw on us or something?"

"Because."

She was strongly tempted to slam his head against the wall until he became more obliging. Or until he collapsed: whatever happened first.

"Are you absolutely, positively sure?"

"Yes, I am sure! I've been saying so for the past half hour! Have you been listening to me, Kim? Do I need to spell it out? Raimundo well. Raimundo not need psychotherapy…"

Green eyes were boring into her from the other side of the room with each heavily punctuated phrase.

"I'm telling you, the bean guy left my head hours ago! Could you trust me for once and-"

"It isn't a matter of trust! Master Monk Guan said Hannibal might've left your brain upturned. Someone has to make sure your head's on right side up, and that someone can't do it if you don't open that humongous mouth of yours. I need to know what's on your mind **now** and compare it to how it was **before**." Exhaustion was cutting her fuse dangerously short. _Four hours is, most definitely, not enough to make up for a night spent dodging monkeys and nightmare monsters._

"So…you're telling me that you know what I'm thinking about most of the time?" He almost smiled (it was the smug smile, though, and that one always made her kind of angry).

"No."

"Then?"

"Drew the short straw." _Besides the fact that the other two still can't prop their eyes open for more than a split second._

"Ah…" He was kind of disappointed by her answer, but she wasn't about to start consoling the cause of her itchy eyes and foul mood.

"It can't be that complex anyway: surf, soccer, besting Omi, surf, soccer, what you might be having for breakfast, surf, soccer, protecting the world from impending doom…hmm…I mentioned surf and soccer before, didn't I?"

His deadpan expression cut the joke short.

Kimiko was fast beginning to lose what little patience she'd managed to rally: was it really that hard for him to give her one small, simple, easily recognized sign of normalcy?

"Is it really that hard to leave my psyche well enough alone?" It certainly seemed like it.

Her eyes flared. Eggs could have burned to a crisp on her forehead. Brazil was about to lose a citizen (_they'll thank me for it later_).

"Listen up Rai: I'm just about _this_ close to frying you whole. Don't you look smug at me, I'm serious! I'll tell everyone you started talking to the walls or something, that it was a mercy killing and that you should be remembered as a Raimundo the Brave, Uprooter of Evil Bean Invaders and whatnot, but believe you me, I can do it."

The threat seemed to hang in the air…and Raimundo suddenly looked just a little cowed.

_Score!_

"You could have just used the Mind-Reader Conch on me, you know."

"You'd do something stupid like think insults at me until I lost it and pummeled you senseless."

"Alright, alright, I give up. So, what do you want me to do?"

"Lemme see…uh, give me a brief description of each person I name. The most important facts you can connect to them."

"…That has to be the most ridiculous sanity test I've ever heard of."

She let forth an irate growl. "So you have a better idea, oh astute and not at all addled in the brain Dragon of the Wind? All I need to do is make sure you still know Omi from Clay and that Chase Young isn't your bestest buddy so I can go back to bed…"

"Omi's the small one with the big head, Clay's the big, bulky one who spouts farm wisdom every other minute and Chase Young isn't my bestest buddy. I'd cut Master Fung's toenails before calling on Mr. My-hair's-prettier-than-a-girl's."

"…Oh _fine_. How about Dojo?" _It does sound enough like him._

"Small, Shen Gong Wu-detecting dragon who was doing this very same thing to me earlier. Psychic torture, I mean."

"Master Fung?"

"Our sensei. Vomits proverbs as often as Omi spouts nonsense."

"Wuya?"

"Evil Heylin witch who wants to govern the Earth. Bad person to associate with. Another stupid question, please?"

_This is the last one before I declare him __a cured man_ "Kimiko."

"That'd be you, girl. Japanese toy company heiress with a really ugly temper and a wardrobe the size of Asia. 'Course it seems kind of pointless to ask me that if I've been _calling you by your name for the half hour of agony I've been suffering here_, but then again, who am I to know?"

"That does it: if that doesn't prove you're still Raimundo, nothing does."

She got up in a huff, the anger boiling and hissing like a tea kettle within her head. A certain couple of Dragons had just gotten themselves a nice, lengthy entry in her little black book.

She'd deal with them alright…right after that long-overdue nap.

"Kim! Wait!"

_Of all the times he could have chosen to torment me…_ "What!? Weren't you dying to get rid of me just five seconds ago?"

"You were about to step on Ninja Fred." Sure enough, there he was, her tiny blue slipper hovering over his plush face threateningly.

She couldn't help it. Raimundo's lapses of innocent candor were endearing. Anger considerably diminished, Kimiko picked up Ninja Fred and placed him in Raimundo's open hands.

"It's okay Mr. Teddy, your Daddy's right here." She cooed, making doe-eyes at the stuffed bear. It was a rather cute toy. A simply made little guy, not one bit like the ones she used to get from Dad (she distinctly remembered a pink and purple one that sang five different lullabies), but cute all the same.

"It's Ninja Fred! Ninja Fred, Master of Taijutsu and Donuts! And I'm **not** his Daddy." He cradled the bear protectively against his cheek, frowning.

"Whatever you say, Rai, I'm off to sleep before Master Monk Guan decides we need training. G'night. And goodnight to you too, Ninja Fred." And she placed a kiss on the bear's head, a hair's width away from Raimundo's face.

She turned and left, thoughts of comfy beds heavy on her mind. She didn't see Raimundo blink, hold the bear out an arm's length away, and give it a slightly annoyed grimace.

"You're lucky you're cute, Fred. I'm not usually this cool to rivals," he gave the bear another look. "Kim's out-of-bounds for you, little dude."

And hugged him close again.


	2. Still Scared

**Title:** Still Scared  
**Author: **Virande  
**Pairing:** Raimundo Pedrosa x Kimiko Tohomiko  
**Fandom:** Xiaolin Showdown  
**Rating:** E  
**Theme: **#17 - Fear  
**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing and make no profit out of these.  
**Warning:** Some spoilers for "The Dream Stalker".

* * *

_This fic relates to its predecessor, "Plush Rival". Reading it is highly recommended if you wish to fully understand this one-shot.  
_

* * *

Raimundo sighed, sitting up in bed. Sleep was eluding him artfully tonight.

_Something's bugging me._

His legs tingled, his eyes felt as if they'd been stapled open and the bed felt as uncomfortably warm as a furnace.

_There's an annoying lump of activity at the back of my head. Go figure._

"I hate insomnia…hate it, hate it…" Raimundo leaped off the bed in a burst of impatience. The floor felt nice and cool in comparison. He crossed his legs, adopting the lotus position. A bit of meditation was exactly what he needed right now…

…silence…

…serenity…

_ "You didn't tell her the truth."_

He almost balked

"_You told me you weren't afraid. What happened?" _

Apparently, there was unsettled business with the creatures within his head. Raimundo took a deep breath and began the increasingly familiar ritual of delving into his own mind...

* * *

It was an odd thing, being severed from the physical world like this. Before the Bean's unwanted intervention, meditation had been just a welcome exercise that relieved tension. He could go through all the breathing exercises without much thought, recite the mantras with the ease of someone who has had them upon his lips for years. It was almost like diving into a cool pond and emerging with renewed strength, even to a restless Wind-born.

Whatever dormant powers (afflictions?) Hannibal had awakened within his mind had deepened the pond and darkened its waters.

First it was the sensation of being loosed from his body, free to leave it. Two separate entities, linked but not fused. Afterwards came a gentle pull into the world within - whatever that was. He was never quite sure where the imaginary Pedrosa mansion actually was, whether he traveled into his own head or far into another dimension, but he always found it. And _he _was there to greet him, whenever he turned up.

_Hey, stud..._

The image of the little boy popped up as Raimundo saw (or imagined) the silhouette of an extravagantly furnished room swim into view. A pair of eyes glowed before him, briefly, before fading into green.

_He _stepped out of the fog that usually covered his dream-mansion in the familiar white shirt, bow tie and suspenders. But this time, the fog didn't break to reveal the monogrammed throne, arcade and billiard table. In fact, it thickened around them.

Did little Rai want to drive a point home?  
_  
Whaddaya mean I didn't tell her the truth? Omi does have a big head!_

_"That's not what I meant. She told you to tell her the most important thing about each person, and you didn't tell her the truth. About herself."_

Little Rai was...sad. He looked at his real, older self with a hint of disappointment, popping in and out of sight as the fog rolled over him.

_Uh, last time I checked, she did own the biggest wardrobe in China. And Japan too._

_"You know what I really mean. About how you like looking at her more often these days."_

_...Uh..._

He should have anticipated the kid's inquiry. There he'd been, flying and fighting like he'd always dreamed he would, kicking out evil, kicking out his own damn fears as his inner child watched in awe. For a glorious, short-lived minute, they'd both been invincible. There had been no skeletons in the closet, no whispers of doubt echoing in his head every time he failed.

And still he'd lacked the guts.

Little Rai continued, somberly examining Ninja Fred's dream clone.

_"__You didn't tell her__ how it hurt more than it should have to think she was here questioning you because nobody else would. That it hurt to think she didn't really care."_

_That's just..._

_"Or how you always remember t__he little 'welcome back' kiss when you're about to believe she only puts up with you because she doesn't have a choice."_

_I..._

_"I thought you were stronger. I though we were tougher than that. You know, braver than that."_

_…I know.  
_

"_So?"_

_Maybe I am still afraid._

_"But she isn't supposed to be scary. And aren't those the kind of things she should know?"_

_…No. That's for us to know, and for her to never find out._

_"Why?"_

_Things get all messed up. Like when Mom found out the marketplace lady with the weird, glassy eyes was actually Aunt Fatima. You know, the one who left home and never returned? She couldn't glance her way without bursting into tears for weeks._

The fog receded. Raimundo's fantasy room came into view, its desolate emptiness overwhelming. Little Rai shuffled towards him immediately, gripping his pants in expectant, wide-eyed fear.

There were the game machines, their screens blank and silent. There was the ramp, looking quite lonely despite its colorful designs. The throne appeared next, high atop the marble staircase. And standing before it, paper fan in hand, was a delicate figure in a pink kimono.

It smiled, a hint of mischief at the corners of her curved lips. The picture-perfect resemblance sent a chilling draft through his chest.

Cold, quiet porcelain doll, his to hold and despair over. Beautiful. Hollow in a way its warm, very real counterpart would never be. But for now, he was willing to conform._  
_  
In the physical plane, Raimundo's alienated body sighed dejectedly.


	3. Hiatus

Why was this discontinued during its first few days of existence, you ask

Why was this discontinued during its first few days of existence, you ask?

Well, I felt I was doing these without permission, to be honest.

The staff at 30 Forbidden Fruits has not had time to put the newest 10 or so people on the list. Mine is amongst them. This means that I haven't been approved to do these. I'd though I'd be given the go-ahead by now, but as that hasn't happened yet, I feel it's rather disrespectful of me to start filling out the prompts.

Nobody at the community has told me this is wrong, nor have I been given a reprimand: it's simply a matter of principle.

However, I have begun to write a new RaiKim drabble series at the kimikoraimundo community on livejournal, so if you really want to see my RaiKim pieces (and a few from others – they're coming slowly, but they certainly are coming!) you are cordially invited. The link is on my bio.


	4. 375C

**Title:** 37.5°C  
**Author: **Virande**  
Pairing:** Raimundo Pedrosa x Kimiko Tohomiko**  
Fandom:** Xiaolin Showdown**  
Rating:** E**  
Theme: **#19 - Watch**  
Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing and make no profit out of these.

* * *

Raimundo Pedrosa: Brazilian heartthrob, Xiaolin Dragon of the Wind, leader and Shoku Warrior.

He said (or rather mispronounced) them all. Twice.

So which of all my titles inspired the cheeseball to volunteer me as the late-night babysitter? I mean, isn't a leader sorta the last person you want stumbling with sleep deprivation? And don't I have the last word in this kind of thing?

You just wait. Let the little dude have his victory for today. I'm calling surprise leap-across-volcanic-stones practice tomorrow. And hey, how's about we make it a little interesting and suppress fire's direct opposite? For completely wise and leader-ly reasons, of course.

I'm sitting with my back against said paneling, feeling like my spine has looped itself into crazy little knots. The late-night/small-hours-of-morning cold is seeping in from beneath the sliding door, into the badly lit little room. It sucks. Killed my feet four hours ago, and it doesn't look like they're coming back too soon.

And it's making the bundle lying near them shiver too. Oh damn.

If that's hypothermia kicking in…

…wait. Think positive. Catch the positive vibes, man. She's just getting comfortable. She's turning the pillows over to get to the cool side. For over a minute.

The colorful little hill shakes like a leaf on the autumn winds - the cold has finally begun leaking through the thick nest she's been cocooned in for most of today (or yesterday, if I'm not mistaken). Should I slip off and fetch another layer for her? I think we're all out of blankets.

She'd better be okay.

"Kim? Kimiiiii…? You still there?" The bundles' shivers subside a little, but no answer comes.

Okay. I admit it: I get scared. When I get scared like this, I turn into an idiot and do - well, _idiotic_ things. Like hugging Omi and spouting mommy-drivel at him.

Which is why, like an idiot, I reach out and poke the bundle, as hard as I dare.

It shudders, emitting a low growl. The blankets recede. A mass of glossy, tangled black pops out and a tiny hand reaches out to me.

I don't doubt it for a second: I'm dead.

"Kimiko…?" The tentative question dies halfway out of my mouth as she seizes my robe and pulls me within murdering range.

"What. Is. Your. Problem!?" My ward rasps angrily at me, even though Fungster and the medic-monk clearly told her she should avoid yelling. Her face is unhealthily flushed. Her eyes are pink from being rubbed too violently. And (from what I can tell by the small fist curled beneath my chin) her hands are warm.

Kim tries to appear threatening for a second or two before letting go, energy spent. She then drops her head back onto the pillow and draws the mass of blankets over her head again.

"You okay, girl?" No response again. But a small jerk from within her cocoon tells me she's awake.

"Augh…what're _you_ doing here?" her words are muffled, and she's whispering, but I'm all ears now.

"I had an appointment with your ceiling. Staring contest and stuff." This remark would have cost me an ear, or both, on any other day. But today she's too weak to even snarl properly: where she'd usually give me a mean right hook, she grants me a vaguely irate (empty) threat.

"Shut up before you get to meet him face to face." She groans again and tries to find a position that will make her feel a bit healthier – and fails miserably, of course. In fact, the movement forces another pained groan out of her.

Damn…I should be trying to make her feel better, shouldn't I?

"…easy now Kim…I'm just here to make sure you're still here. You know, _alive_? Not burning at a thousand degrees with no voice to call for help?"

"Kim?"

"…sorry. I get moody when I'm sick."

"I know." I move in closer. She hears my approach and uncovers her head, irritated.

"Ohhh, like you'd know what being sick does to me."

Pretty girl, you have _no_ idea.

Trying to keep the smug smile that so infuriates her away from my lips, I assume my most inconspicuous expression and pretend to think.

"Hmmm…lemme see…you think a call to your dad would make you feel better? Or maybe that Keiko girl?" Her bloodshot eyes widen, surprised.

"How'd you know I was…um…missing home?"

"The Dragon of the Wind has his ways."

When you spend a certain amount of time with a group of people, you get to know the little things about them, like how they are when they're under the weather. Omi won't quit training and let himself be tended to until he's a step away from dropping dead. Clay gets a little stubborn and insists on having all his weird family remedies made. Kim? Like she said, she gets moody. And homesick.

I kinda relate to that. When I'm sick, I miss my eldest sister's guaranteed-to-kill-you spicy soups, Aunt Constaça's handmade get well cards…all those annoying things you swear you'll never miss, and actually remember the best.

I look at her, all mussed hair, flushed skin and blotchy eyes. There's Fire girl, who set a cursed forest on fire and dove into Loch Ness. After all this time, I'm not sure whether she loves me or wants to feed me to a giant Koi. But I do know she needs me.

"So? Want me to get Mr. Tohomiko on the line?" I don't tell her she's a little too out of it to have a proper conversation with him: all she needs is to hear her old man's voice.

She nods, watching dazedly as I grab the pink cell phone and find his name on the speed-dial list. Old man Toshiro is a cool kind of guy: he'll probably be all concerned, telling Kim he'll fly here on a toy chopper with ibuprofen if he has to before she says she's alright. He'll tell her he loves her and that he's right there for her if she needs him, maybe crack a few jokes to hear her laugh.

"Moshi-moshi, Papa…" The phrase comes out raspy and weak, but she's smiling a little already.

I lean back against the screen door, a little proud of myself for thinking of this medication. She'll probably be easier to handle once she's had her dose of parental love. But I don't think I'm leaving just yet.

_Hey__ Fire Girl, don't forget I'm here too._

* * *

**A/N:** 37.5ºC is the temperature at which it is accepted that a person is feverish, give or take a thousand conditions that I tried to respect (if any doctors are present, please be a little considerate - I haven't even graduated from high school yet).

And allow me to thank my few and yet very patient readers - I didn't get a single snark or growl about not updating every second of my life after the 'hiatus' post. As a gesture of thanks, "Plush Rival" and "Still Scared" were given a revamp (the first was corrected, the second one lengthened, and both were slightly re-structured so that they might flow better). Go give them a look!


	5. Taboo

**Title:** Taboo  
**Author: **Virande  
**Pairing: **Raimundo Pedrosa x Kimiko Tohomiko  
**Fandom:** Xiaolin Showdown  
**Rating:** E  
**Theme:** #27 - Touch  
**Warning:** Spoilers for "In the Flesh" and "Citadel of Doom".  
**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing and make no profit out of these.

* * *

After seeing a world dominated by evil vanish in a matter of seconds, she thinks she's been tempered against all sorts of weird revelations; Kimiko walks around with that thought comfortably until she arrives at the scene unfolding in the north wing, on the second morning after Rai's return (_oh, and Wuya's defeat, too_).

It'd been a quiet morning, with just a hint of breeze and the right amount of sun to make her want to take a walk around the empty halls, thinking about nothing in particular. She turns a corner –

_Thwack_

-and collides with Clay's back.

"Wha- Clay? What're you doing here? And what's with you blocking the halls…" she peers around the cowboy's hulking form and forgets the rest of the sentence.

_"Rai!?"_

Raimundo barely lifts his head, mutters a "Hey Kim", and goes back to sweeping dust bunnies out from behind an altar missing its idol. Business as usual, right?

If it weren't, you know, their **day off**.

"Yeah," Clay whispers sympathetically to her "me n' Omi thought the same."

There's a feather duster, a bucket and mop, a cleaning rag and a jar of bronze polish against the wall. He's already cleared a good portion of the floor, which means he's either Superman or he's been at this for a while (because using the wind to clear off dust usually results in irritated red eyes and filthy clothes).

Raimundo is cleaning up a part of the temple that was last visited when old Master Li was a young boy because he _wants _to.

At a loss, Kimiko stares at Clay inquiringly. His expression answers with a slightly amused 'I know'.

"Look at this," he says conspiratorially. Then, louder "Raimundo, you care to tell us what's going on here, just so we're totally sure you're not balled up in here?" and at this the cowboy spins a finger significantly beside his head, despite the way the corners of his lips twitch upward gradually.

Omi, not as composed, is trying to take in the situation at every angle of the room he can possibly get; "I must agree with Clay on this, for as much as I ponder I cannot envelop my skull around this new development."

"Well, I guess you'll just have to try and _wrap your head_ _around it_ little dude." Raimundo smiles at them both (a boyish, honest smile) and goes on sweeping.

_Sweeping._

If the world's ending, their forgotten little temple never got the memo.

"It's a mighty big shock, you know, you used to dodge work like a ranging bull tryin' to horn you in the bottom parts…and here y'are, working away and looking like you enjoy every moment of it."

Raimundo smirks, acknowledging the gentle barb. "Yeah…this is the kind of stuff you grump and growl about all the time. It makes your arms hurt, and sometimes dust gets in your eyes (and it sucks)."

The broom stops swaying as his voice turns thoughtful "But when you're done and the Fungster smiles and says something all Zen for the occasion…it's kinda rewarding."

He passes a hand surreptitiously over his belt.

A surge of tenderness, mixed with despair and a light touch of annoyance overcame Kimiko. This is her boy; her impulsive, pompous Rai, who can't mess up like regular people do (anyone wrecks, _he_ wreaks havoc), who'll smirk and taunt until your teeth are ground flat and you have to wonder how he makes it through the door every morning with that head (and to save the world, no less). And then he'll go all prince-on-the-white-horse, risking it all for 'his friends', returning in pieces but smiling, because he did it.

"Ahaha! Then we must rejoice for this fair turn of events! I commend you, Raimundo," Omi slaps him in the back jovially "for a minute I thought this was a result of brainwashing from your time with Wuya."

Several things happen in the split second after the words leave the thoughtless little monk's mouth (Omi's smile freezes and dies, even though his lips are still stretched into the ghost of one; Clay grunt softly like his foot's been stepped on; her hands jerk upwards, halfway to deflecting something invisible), but everyone really stops breathing when the happy gleam in Raimundo's eyes flickers, dims and expires.

"Yeah. That wouldn't be very good, would it?" His grin lacks strength.

It isn't done with ill-intention. Omi is simply his usual tactless self, and (knowing him) it could have been much worse. Bu still he's managed to pull Raimundo back to square one, to bowing his head before Master Fung and not knowing if he'd ever find his place in the temple again.

He's the one who finally trapped Wuya in the puzzle box. He's been congratulated by Dashi himself. He is wholeheartedly forgiven by his friends and has even been offered entry to the next level by his master.

But he declined the latter, and he still can't be assured of the former.

Ironically enough, he's the first one to move after the stupor passes. Abandoning the altar, he chooses a corner heaped with dust so thick it resembles wool and begins to attack it mechanically. His pants are turning grey, but he doesn't pause.

Kimiko doesn't presume to know much about Raimundo Pedrosa. She never thought he'd be noble and try to rescue Master Fung against his orders, never believed he'd felt fear at being left behind. But she knows that no words can help him now: all she has left are a meaningful glance at the two frozen behind her and the conviction that he needs them all the same.

_We're not leaving him alone.  
_  
"Are we just going to sit and watch while Rai sweeps dead moths into our shoes?" She seizes the feather duster and hastily chooses a cobwebby statue to attack first. A second or two pass before she hears the other two join in with a "hard work makes one a more noble and industrious warrior" from Omi. They aren't thinking, and probably won't do a good job with the cleaning, but they are positioning themselves deliberately around Raimundo. She doesn't look at him, but every bit of her is yelling at him to look up and see the barrier they're forming around him.

She feels someone bump into her shoulder from behind and looks back to find Raimundo. He's strayed a little too close, just enough to brush against her arm as he sweeps the broom back and forth. The touch is gentle and near imperceptible, but too constant to be an accident.

"Hey…Kim?" He's breaking her heart with that uncharacteristic tone, all hesitation and insecurity (and all things not him).

"Yeah?"

"…thanks."

The scratch of bristles on the marble floor stops. Then there's a head leaning over her shoulder, a bold kiss is pressed to her cheek, and her head turns just in time to catch his eye, an host of unspoken words sent back at her through the glimmer of green eyes.

_I'm still sorry._

_I'll be okay anyway._

_Oh, and keep this a secret, will ya girl?_


	6. Castles In The Sky

**Title:** Castles in the Sky  
**Author: virande  
Pairing:** Raimundo Pedrosa x Kimiko Tohomiko**  
Fandom:** Xiaolin Showdown**  
Rating:** E**  
Theme: **#11 - Forget**  
Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing and make no profit out of these.**  
Warning:** None.

* * *

_The sun beats down hard. The air is heavy with the salty, fishy smell of the ocean breaking on the beach nearby. If he opens his eyes, he'll see dazzling white sand and palm trees, straight as rulers, and if he looks a little higher he'll see the Pão de Açúcar rising out from amongst a thick belt of trees-_

"Ooh! Lemme!"

He felt an annoying little yank in each ear and, just like that, the image (along with his music) had vanished to someplace beyond his reach.

Well, not exactly. The headphones, along with his MP3, were a couple of meters away. In Kimiko's ears and hands, respectively.

"You know Kim, it's not that we don't know you're a let's-invade-everyone's-private-time junkie, but did the urge have to hit you _now_?" He'd get up and wrestle them back, but the mat was a tad too comfy and the effort too pointless. If Kimiko wanted them, she'd keep them until their use was through.

The girl in question held one of the headphones out of her ears, scoffing at him. "Pshh, you're one to talk. Besides, I've been wanting to listen to one of those songs Clay doesn't understand and whatever other tribute to bad taste you have in here" She listened a little more carefully, her head beginning to bob in time with the music "Though this one is kinda catchy."

"Yay. Princess Tohomiko approves. Can the lowly peasant with bad taste have his MP3 back now?"

She ignored him, beginning to dance artlessly to the music. "Hey, I know this, its samba! It's one of the typical 3 or 4 songs that get played along with shots of Rio on every travel documentary." She hummed the rest of the song to herself, just a little off key, before returning the little device to its exasperated owner.

"That's odd."

"That I listen to music from my homeland?"

"Hey, don't get all snappy at me! I meant that particular song. It's probably the most typical travel-to-Brazil song ever. You know, the kind anyone can mumble along to and everyone's secretly fed up with?"

"Huh. Well…to tell ya the truth, that's the idea." He popped the left earphone in and restarted the track, letting the familiar lively tune start up again with eyes closed. The notion of palm trees swaying in the breeze and being able to open his eyes and see the familiar sights returned, a little less vividly with the distant noises of daily life in the temple coming in through his other ear.

"Oh, is it? And what is the idea, if I'm allowed to ask?" He could envision Kimiko smiling that I-don't-really-believe-you've-thought-that-through smile she put on whenever she just knew Omi was going to pretend he did know what she'd meant by visiting the big apple (and fail spectacularly). The image chased out the palm trees and the beach in a second._  
_

"Well?"

"…it makes me feel like I'm in Rio."

"Wha-is the bulletproof, nonsentimental Raimundo Pedrosa admitting he gets homesick?"

He nodded, opening his eyes to her smug expression, resigned to the loss of the daydream.

"Yeah Kim, you can pinch my cheeks and call me adorable now." What was it with girls and vulnerability?

But Kimiko's face had dissolved in a sympathetic smile.

"You don't have to get all defensive. I do get where you're coming from sometimes." She prodded his side and he moved, allowing her some room on the mat. "We're all pretty far from home, you know. Clay makes those huge all-American breakfasts when he misses Texas, and I might kinda sorta get up early to e-mail dad."

"Those mails with lots of 'Dad, I love you and I miss you and I hope you have Mr. Teddy safe' in it?" The remark was too well-timed to waste. Kimiko lost all air of sympathy and seized his ear viciously. "Whoa whoa, easy on the goods!"

"Tell anyone at all and you're dead!"

"Alright! Just let me keep that ear, will ya?!"

"Fine." She let go, allowing him to sit back and put the song back on for the third consecutive time. Maybe the volume was a bit too high, maybe they were sitting a little too close, but she leaned in to listen, as intent on following the song as he was. And maybe that was just the most comfortable position, maybe she really did make him feel less adrift, but he stretched an arm behind her back, against the wall, and let himself imagine that she was on the beach with him.  


* * *

  
**V:** I'm not dead, fear not!


End file.
